Choices
by smiling inside
Summary: Draco thought he knew what he wanted, but when it comes down to it, will he risk everything for a life with the woman he loves or will he forsake it all for power? ONESHOT.


**A/N: A one-shot I came up with one night. I hope you all enjoy and please review and give** **me your thoughts and any comments.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

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Silence. Almost too silent. A blond boy stood in the centre of the room, a knife clutched in his hand, his perfect features hidden in the shadows. They appeared to be in some sort of chamber, lit only by candle, and the walls lined with hooded men; death eaters… and yet, this did not seem to phase the boy in the slightest. Instead, he smirked in his usual manner and walked casually up to the Dark Lord. Draco dipped his head slightly in almost a bow to the man before him. 

"My Lord," he said dutifully.

The man before him lowered his hood to reveal his twisted features, and took the knife from the boy's hand. In a sort of ceremony, he sliced the palm of his hand, allowing blood to flow freely down his arm, and a few drops to splash onto the ground; staining it crimson. He then passed it to the blond boy, who pulled up his sleeve, ready to do the same. Draco eyed his palm by the light of the candles, which were placed around the room, and in an almost playful way stroked the palm of his hand with it, preparing to slice.

It was the eve of his eighteenth birthday, and the time had come to join the dark side. Voldemort offered him such power and such riches, that even the strongest of men would find hard to decline. And yet, he wasn't even sure if that was the reason why he was doing it… choosing the dark over light. Perhaps it was that he enjoyed inflicting pain upon others, holding power over them, and watching them flinch under his glare. Or perhaps, it was that he had been brought up knowing nothing else, perhaps he thought that darkness was all he had in this world. Either way, without a second thought, he pressed the silver blade onto his palm, allowing it to penetrate his skin, and awaiting the flow of blood.

It didn't come.

"It's time," came a deep voice from behind him breaking the silence, and causing Draco to drop the knife. He looked around the room, shocked to find each of the men frozen into place, even the Dark Lord himself.

He turned to meet the owner of the voice; a man stood before him, young, perhaps late twenties, his skin a tanned brown and eyes as blue as the ocean. "It's time," he repeated.

Draco, unsure of what to do, whipped his wand out of his robes and pointed it squarely at the mans chest, "who are you, and what the fuck is going on?" Much to Draco's annoyance the man merely chuckled.

"Put your wand away before you poke someone's eye out," however upon noticing the fire which burned warningly in Draco's eyes he added, "it won't work, not now, we are frozen in time I suppose; or perhaps between two different times. Try it if you don't believe me".

The blond boy obediently muttered a spell under his breath, but to no avail. He grabbed the man by the scruff of his collar and pushed him hard against a wall, "my wand may not work," he growled, "but that doesn't mean I can't hurt you".

"I'm here to give you a choice," the man said calmly; Draco loosened his grip on him, but did not yet let go.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"It's time," the man repeated for the third time, however this time completed his sentence, "to make a decision which will change your life forever".

"I know that you fool," Draco growled in pure rage.

"But I don't think you do," the man sighed, "the decision your about to make, will change everything; and I'm not sure you fully know the consequences" then he added, "I was sent here, to show you".

"Show me what?" he asked, finally releasing the man.

"The consequences" he muttered, and at this began pacing the room, looking in turn at each of the frozen death eaters. "You have two choices; you can become one of them," he said, pointing at the hooded figures, "and live your life obeying this 'Lord' of yours. Or, you can choose a different path".

"What path?" Draco shouted, finally loosing his temper, "are you fucking insane! Don't you see, this is the right path for me, because it's the only path. Once I join the Dark Lord, I will have power, I will have money, history will remember my name! I will have everything I want".

"We shall see," the man muttered mysteriously, not phased by Draco's shouting. "Look, this is a chance that not many people get; I am here merely to show help you; it is _you_ who makes the final decision".

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked tiredly.

"I will show you two possible futures. In one, you have followed through with tonight's ceremony, and have joined the dark side, in the process gaining all the power you have always dreamed of," at this Draco smirked happily, "and in the other, I will show you your life as it would be if you turn your back on the Dark Lord and start over".

Draco thought about this for a moment, unsure weather or not to take the offer. He opened his mouth to refuse, however, at the last moment; he shut it again and nodded slowly, his curiosity having gotten the better of him.

The tanned man smiled and took hold of Draco's arm. For a moment, it felt to the young Malfoy that the floor beneath him had collapsed and he was falling, and at the same time flying. All was dark, and bitterly cold and the only thing he could feel was the arm, which rested upon his shoulder. It reminded him of a childish game he used to play, when he was just a boy, he would spin around really fast until he would fall to the ground, nausea taking over his senses, and yet, in a strange way, enjoying the dizzy feeling.

However, just as quickly as it all began, it was over, and the two men once again stood side by side, but this time, they were in a large empty room, which Draco recognised immediately. "We're in the Malfoy Manor," he muttered once his head had cleared from the 'journey'.

The man nodded, "So we are," he smiled.

For a moment, they stood in the room in silence, however not long after, the doors burst open and a middle-aged man stormed in and marched passed the two men, unaware of their presence, and straight to his desk.

"He can't see us," explained the tanned man, however, Draco barely heard him; he was to busy staring in disbelief at the man seated at the large, mahogany desk.

His hair was the same shade of blond as Draco's, only it was longer, and tied back. His face was covered in thick stubble, and his eyes, once bright now appeared tired. They say that the eyes are the windows to each man's soul, and if this was infact the case, then the man at the desk held only anger and pain within him.

"Tha… that's me," whispered Draco, running his hand through his hair.

"In twenty years or so" added the man beside him.

Draco stared incredulously, "I look so… different… so angry".

The blond man stood up abruptly from his desk, grabbing his wand and stormed purposefully out of the room; the two men followed him down to the dungeons where a young man was chained to the wall. The older Draco strode up to him, looking at him in disgust, "I will give you one last chance," he growled pointing his wand down at the man, "tell me where they are".

"Never," the man whispered.

The older Draco struck him with the side of his hand, and then, lifter his wand to his face; "Then I have no further need for you," he snarled, "AVADA KEDAVRA".

The younger Draco flinched ever so slightly, but remained silent as he observed his older form kill another, and seem to almost enjoy watching an innocent die at the hand of his wand. The man beside him eyed him curiously, trying to work out what he was thinking, but did not say a word.

Eventually, Draco said in a quiet voice, "Am I married?"

"No," the man whispered, "you live alone" then he added, but you have everything you ever wanted. You posses more power than you ever could have imagined, people fear the mere mention of your name, and the Dark Lord treats you, almost as an equal. You are feared and respected and you have more money than you could ever spend in a life time".

Draco grinned triumphantly, "So I am making the right choice!" his voice almost sounded relieved as though his mind had finally been made.

"We shall see," the man sighed not for the first time that evening.

"I have seen enough," Draco said confidently.

"Very well". He once again held onto Draco's arm, and in a few seconds, they appeared at a new destination; somewhere Draco did not recognise. They stood at the edge of some sort of forest, in front of a small house; the sun was setting behind the two men, and Draco could have sworn he had heard children's laughter.

"Perhaps," the man said calmly, "you should do this one alone".

The blond boy shrugged, and pushed open the door, into a small kitchen; at first glance it appeared to be empty, but, having taken a step further inside, he noticed a woman in the corner, feeding a baby. His mouth fell open in horror as he recognised the lady before him; "Granger?" he shouted, but she could not hear him.

"Fuck this!" he snarled heading back to the door, ready to leave, however a small voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Daddy?" he turned around, to see a small boy, no older that five, with blond hair just like his own, and silver eyes. "Daddy?" the childish voice repeated.

"Yes," a voice came from the staircase, which Draco automatically recognised as his own.

"Can I stay up just a little bit longer?" he fluttered his eyes pleadingly, "please".

The older Draco walked down the stairs into the kitchen, and pretended to think about this, then, grabbing his son around the stomach and heaving him over his shoulder he took him to his room, "no buddy," he smiled "its bedtime".

The younger Draco stared in a mixture of shock and horror of his life turning out like this; part of him urged his to leave, and yet, a small voice at the back of his mind persuaded him to stay, just for a moment longer. Hermione stood up, and followed her husband up the stairs, taking the baby to its cot, and kissing both her children goodnight, before making her way to her bedroom.

The blond boy followed her, curious as to her relationship with his future self; he stood in the corner, and shut is eyes as she got changed, awaiting for his future self to walk through the door. And, as if on queue, the older Malfoy walked in, pulling his clothes off and lying on his bed in a pair of boxer shorts, staring at the woman before him lovingly.

The young Draco did not fail to notice this, "no fucking way," he muttered.

Hermione laughed as her husband pulled her down onto the bed beside him and kissed her gently on the lips. She wrapped her arms around him and allowed him to pull her closer.

Draco shifted around uncomfortably in the corner.

The couple lay together on the bed, merely staring at each other, "I love you," he whispered. Hermione smiled playfully, "and _I_ love you" she grinned, pulling him in for another kiss.

Draco, having decided he did not wish to see any more left the room quickly and made his way towards the stairs. But something made him stop. He didn't know why, but he wanted to see the baby; just for a second. He walked towards the door, and gently pushed it open, sticking his head inside; and then, the rest of his body. He looked into the cot, only to find two large chocolate brown eyes staring back at him; he could have sworn the baby could see him, and without even thinking about it, he scooped the little bundle up in his arms. He looked down at the child, _his_ child and smiled.

With a sigh he put the baby back in its cot and left the room; almost running down the stairs and out of the house. The man was waiting for him, leaning against the side of the house.

"I don't get it," Draco mumbled, "how did this happen" he said motioning to the house. "How did I end up with Granger? I mean for goodness sake he loves her!"

"You _chose_ this path" the man in front of him shrugged, "but, in _this_ life you're poor; you don't have any of the riches you know dream of. And although you will live a happy life, full of love and tenderness, once you die, and once your children die, your name will be forgotten". He sighed, "you've seen your choices, which one you pick Draco, is down to you".

And, in the blink of an eye, he was back to where it all started. In the candle lit room, in front of the Dark Lord, knife poised once again in his hand, and time unfrozen; the words _it's down to you _resounding in his ears.

And thus, the time had come, he had to choose; a life of power over a life of love. But in his mind, the decision had already been made. He knew which life he was truly happy in; he remembered the way he had looked at Hermione, the way he kissed her, and he knew, that if he joined the dark side now, he would live to forever regret it. All the power in the world could not buy him what he knew would make him happy. _She_ would make him happy. It seemed impossible, they never got on, and had anyone even suggested he would one day come to love her, he would laugh in their face. But he had _seen _it with his own eyes, and he knew that not only was it possible, but it was what he wanted.

The only problem is that it seemed too late. All eyes were upon him expectantly, as he held the knife against the soft flesh of his palm, poised ready to pierce his skin. He looked up into the eyes of the man before him, for the first time terrified of what could happen; and, before he could change his mind, he let go of the knife, and let it fall to the ground. He could feel the critical eye of the Dark Lord upon him.

"What are you doing?" he hissed at Draco.

"Choosing," Draco replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Choosing what?" the man snarled, whipping his wand out, and pointing it dangerously at the boys chest.

"Choosing to do the right thing," he muttered determinedly.

And thus it was clear, Draco had changed; his soul, once cold, now consisted of something stronger. Hope. He knew the Dark Lord would kill him for defying him, and yet he didn't care; for he had learnt something tonight. Draco Malfoy learnt that life is not about power; it's about love. And he would rather take a risk and die trying, rather than live a half-life, of anger and emptiness; for he had been given the chance to see what life could really be like; and he was not going to waste it.

The Dark Lord took a dangerous step forward, "then you shall die!" he roared, enraged with the boy's behaviour, and struck him hard on the head, causing him to fall to the ground; and pointed his wand directly at the boys heart. Draco almost smiled, thinking how ironic this gesture was.

He closed his eyes, awaiting his own demise… he recoiled slightly as he heard the curse slip casually from Voldemort's mouth and awaited light from his wand to reach him. But it didn't.

Draco dared open his eyes for a second; only to find time had been once again stopped.

A familiar voice came from behind him, "I'm surprised Draco, I half expected you to choose the life of power" the man took a step closer to him, and helped the blond boy up from the ground. Draco remained silent; and then man began to walk away, he paused for a moment, "are you coming or do you _want_ to stay and be killed by his curse?"

Draco ran after him, "but he'll come after me. He never forgives; he'll hunt me to the end of the earth if he has to!"

The man shook his head, "he'll think your dead"

"What about my body? He's not stupid you know!" Draco shouted, the fear apparent in his voice.

"Don't worry about it buddy, I've sorted it" he said with a wink as they reached the open air outside the building; then he added as an afterthought, "isn't there a miss Granger you should be looking for now?" he grinned.

Draco didn't have to be told twice.

He turned to walk away, but stop in his tracks and turned around to face the man, "I never asked you what your name was" Draco called to him.

"Anthony," the man called back.Draco nodded and watched as the man disappeared from sight.

"Thank you" Draco whispered into the night.

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_THREE YEARS LATER:_

He looked down at her lovingly, his heart doing little summersaults in his chest as it did every time he was with her. She lay in bed, holding onto their first-born son, and he in turn holding onto her. "I love you," he whispered into her ear, making her smile. She tilted her head back, kissing him tenderly on the lips.

"What shall we call him?" she whispered.

Draco thought for a moment looking down at his son before smiling to himself, "how about Anthony?"

"Anthony," Hermione repeated happily before nodding.

He reached over and held his wife's hand; knowing that with the woman he loved, he had gotten his own 'happily ever after'.

**THE END.**


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